


Lost

by Viridian5



Series: Psycho Trip [1]
Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: Dark fic, Drama, Farfarello Being Farfarello, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-03
Updated: 2003-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aya chased madness until it caught him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Kasha's fault.
> 
> Dark stuff ahead. I blame a day job that has me working on books like _A Day at the Circus_. Well, I blame my day job and Kasha.
> 
> Slight spoilers for "Mission 13: Bruch -- Rain of Revenge" and "Mission 16: Schatten -- Return to Battle."

With Farfarello's needle-like sword rushing past his face, Aya felt almost... happy. Right now he had no need of banter or aggressive pronouncements. Wordless, he lost himself in a hot, red tide of movement, will, and hatred, forgetting his terror for his sister and everything else. This was simple and pure.

The clang of metal on metal and metal on stone nearly deafened him, and Farfarello pressed him hard enough that he started to feel his breath sawing hotly in his throat, nose, and chest, but he loved it. He dodged, parried, thrust, pushed, and sliced, every moment of contact crackling through his body. When Farfarello hit him across the cheekbone, Aya barely felt it. He did feel it, gleefully, all the way up to his shoulder when his scabbard hit Farfarello under the chin hard, rocking the berserker's head all the way back into a brick wall.

But Farfarello, who barely felt pain, just bounced forward afterward and knocked Aya back with a headbutt. With this opponent, mere wounding did nothing. Farfarello needed to be taken down hard and permanently, or he'd keep fighting like a member of the living dead. Aya needed a different strategy than the usual against him just because he fought an almost purely offensive battle, pure aggression, no fear or caution. Usually another member of Schwarz eventually called him off, but the two of them had separated away from the main fight.

Their swords locked for a moment, bringing them in close to one another. Farfarello's one gold eye seemed to be lit from within as he bared his teeth. Aya felt an answering feral smile on his own face.

He bludgeoned Farfarello with his scabbard again but lost it in the process. Their engagements became more brutal each time, with Aya's style being stripped away by his growing fatigue, reducing him to primal aggression. He'd sliced, stabbed, and punched but Farfarello just kept coming, blinking blood out of his eye from a copiously bleeding head wound as if it meant nothing. It pissed Aya off. He charged in and landed a beautiful stab, feeling his blade glance off ribs. But as he came in close from momentum, Farfarello punched him in the face with his poniard's guard and pushed them both backward hard, not caring that Aya's katana was in him to the hilt.

They hit the ground, Aya's head striking first, his hand losing its grip on his weapon as stars exploded in his skull and Farfarello's weight on his chest punched the breath out of him. He struggled instinctively, but he couldn't dislodge his opponent. A knifepoint set just under his eye, digging into his skin, made him stop moving. Aya tried to calm his breathing, since every breath made the point move deeper.

It hurt but that didn't matter. Life hurt. He would not cry out, no matter how wrong it felt or how much it burned and stung.

"You're not afraid of pain. That's good," Farfarello rasped. "But you're afraid of losing an eye. Such a pretty color. I think it would taste like candy." He still had Aya's katana stuck in him, offending every law of nature.

The thought of this lunatic eating his eye was more offensive than just having it slowly pried out. "I doubt that."

"How would you know?"

"You're sick."

"My rose, you are sick...." He moved in a rhythmic fashion atop Aya.

Outraged as he recognized the rhythm, Aya planned. If he slid the wrong way, he would lose an eye. He could stand to lose an eye, but he'd prefer not to. While positioning himself, Aya had to rock his hips a bit, which made Farfarello happier but couldn't be avoided. Once he had himself prepared, Aya pushed Farfarello up and rolled them over to put him on top as the victor. The move pushed the katana out, but the lunatic didn't seem to care. Incensed by an opponent who refused to behave the right way, Aya grabbed his hair and smashed his head back against the pavement repeatedly, little caring that he scraped his fingers and knuckles even through his gloves doing it.

Then Farfarello grabbed his hair, fingers sliding at first in a way that suggested a bloody mess back there, and pulled him down hard. And shoved his tongue into Aya's mouth, which had been open. Aya gagged at the feel of something living, squirming, invading him and bit down hard, tasting metal. It felt awful between his teeth, like gristle. Farfarello made a sound of approval. The thought of biting it off and accidentally swallowing it made Aya shudder. He wanted it _out_. Although Aya let it go, Farfarello just kept on exploring his mouth.

Aya set his hands around Farfarello's neck and squeezed hard, trying to push him away at the same time. Farfarello let go of his hair... but moved his hand down to Aya's hips instead, then pushed himself up into a seated position, taking Aya with him. While that gave Aya an opportunity to get his mouth free and gulp air in, it also put him atop Farfarello's hard cock. Farfarello had shifted his grip to Aya's hips so he could rub Aya back and forth along it.

He might be able to pull free if he let go of his strangling grip. He might. Let go and push backward. Maybe he could take Farfarello by surprise. Let go, push backward, and run, as best as he could with a head injury that made his head feel heavy and weirdly rotten, like fruit turning soft as it decayed.

Head back, his eye closed, his expression full of bliss, Farfarello made a wheezing sound that still managed to convey pleasure. Son of a bitch. Couldn't he take his strangling like a normal person? It made Aya feel ineffective.... Aya tightened his grip around Farfarello's neck and shook him with it too, trying to stop the pulse racing under his fingers.

Eventually Aya realized that Farfarello was thrusting to the rhythm of the shaking, but by then Farfarello was making a kind of choked keening sound. His hands shifted from Aya's hips to go under his coat with an unexpected speed and settled-- Aya hissed at this last indignity and pressed so hard that Farfarello opened his eye, screamed as best he could, and came. But his fingers kept moving so wrongly over Aya's cock, pressing and stroking through his pants. Some of the fingers didn't move right. Aya remembered dislocating some of them as he'd rolled Farfarello over and smashed him down.

_This_ was pain. Orgasm hit him with a blackout. Part of him never wanted to come back.

Aya came to on his elbows and knees, draped on top of his enemy. With his head on said enemy's shoulder. Farfarello tongued the length of Aya's long earring, profaning it, and wheezed, fighting to breathe. The urge to knock the bastard's teeth down his throat didn't get any farther than the edge of Aya's brain since his abused body refused to take any more orders now that the adrenaline rush had faded. He saw his katana lying a meter away, bright under the streetlights, but it might as well have been on the other side of the country.

Failure. Once Farfarello finished molesting his earring, he'd kill him and leave his blood- and come-stained corpse in this alley. Aya tried to use the thought of Aya helpless in the hands of her kidnappers to galvanize a response, but he couldn't do more than writhe and shake a little. Fuck.

He'd expected to come to a bad end, but somehow he hadn't foreseen it being this bad. Hopefully Weiß would keep up the search for his sister even after this. Omi might.

Aya would fight, even if that meant lightly beating Farfarello with his weakly flailing body.

When Farfarello tired of the earring, he let it go and gasped in a torn voice, "That was good. We'll play again another time." He rolled Aya off him quickly and none too gently, then stood, hitting the wall with the side of his head on the way up. He used the wall to steady the rest of his ascent, shakily picked up his sword and poniard, then staggered away, leaving a trail of blood. Aya took some pride in that. He took less pride in how Farfarello didn't look back once to make sure that vengeance wasn't rushing at his heels.

Vengeance was flat on its back.

A normal person would probably be a blithering mass of insanity after facing the horrors of the last... how long had it been? But Aya had acclimated to horror long ago.

Simple and pure? Nothing was simple and pure.

He wanted to sleep. Fading.... No, he had to get his katana. He could do it slowly, so his head wouldn't fall off. Then again, his head falling off didn't sound so bad right now. Fading.... No, _movement_. He could feel some strength returning.

"Aya! Stop moving!" Omi swept down next to him and put a forceful hand on his shoulder. Aya couldn't shake it off. "Lie still. It looks like you have a head injury."

"You think?" Yoji asked.

"Aya, we'll get you medical attention. You're drenched in blood."

"Most of it isn't mine," Aya answered.

At least the rest of Weiß looked like they'd gotten their heads kicked in too. It made Aya feel obscurely better. He smiled and faded....

"No, Aya, don't go to sleep on us," Ken said. "Damn, did Farfarello try to take his eye out?"

"I'm right here," Aya said.

"Of course you are, sweetie," Yoji said. "Farfarello doesn't stop."

"Neither does Aya," Omi answered.

Aya felt them wondering why Farfarello had stopped and left, then. Aya really didn't feel like telling them and closed his hands into fists to hide the fine silver hairs still clinging to the black of his gloves.

There would be a rematch. Aya licked Farfarello's blood off his lips.

 

### END

 

_"O Rose, thou art sick!_   
_The invisible worm_   
_That flies in the night,_   
_In the howling storm,_

_Has found out thy bed_  
_Of crimson joy:_  
_And his dark secret love_  
_Does thy life destroy."_  
\-- "The Sick Rose" by William Blake


End file.
